How Far We've Come
by Jerkface-Allyface
Summary: Maddison. Sometimes you have to try harder to get the things you want. In the end, you know it's worth it. Is Seattle ready for their return? Co-written by Rach and Ally.
1. Running To Catch Myself

Chapter One-Running to Catch Myself

"_If you spend all your time running from your fears, you won't have time to chase your dreams."_

"I can't stay here," you explain as you place the papers that will mark the end of constant rain, perfect twelve year olds, and ex-somethings on Richard Webber's desk. He gives you a look, one that makes you feel as if you are five years old and have just declared that under no circumstances will you ever ride a bicycle without training wheels again, the pain too much to take, and when Richard speaks, it does nothing to obliterate that feeling.

"Addison, you can't just pick up your life because you have a bad day."

You don't know how to explain to him that you've had more than your share's worth of absolutely horrible days and this one in particular is only the most recent in a string of days you wish you could forget happened, so you decide to throw his own words back at him.

"You were right. I need a new life, Richard. I just…I need this. Please, don't try to talk me out of it. I have a job waiting in L.A. Maybe I can be happy there," You know there are tears starting to fall from your eyes as you distract yourself with a scuff mark on your black pumps. You conclude that there's no point in formalities as you look up at him. After all this wouldn't be the first time you cried in front the Chief of Surgery and when you now realize that he isn't your boss, it's easier for the water to pour down your cheeks and you don't realize that he's walking towards you until his arms are wrapped around you and he's promising that L.A. will be everything you need it to be.

After a lecture that conveys the rudeness of quitting without notice, he gives you one last hug and promises that you will always have a position should you ever want it at Seattle Grace and then you're leaving his office, standing in an elevator, and finally walking out of the doors of a hospital you have dedicated yourself to.

You feel the need to drop to your knees and thank God that you didn't run into anyone on your way out, but as you see the woman you've grown to love like a sister walk towards you, you know you won't be able to leave without telling her.

"Addison."

"Callie, what's wrong?" You notice something different in her facial features and you're afraid that she has terrible news, that either she knows you're leaving and didn't tell her or that maybe she and George weren't as compatible as she first believed.

"I'm pregnant. I'm pregnant and I'm excited and terrified, and I don't know how to tell George because I don't know if he will actually be happy that we're going to have a baby because it seems like we just got married and we're still learning new things about each other and…"

"Callie." I can't let her go on. I can see the mix of fear and excitement in her eyes and I want more than anything to be with her and help her through these emotions, but I know that my mind is made up. "Calm down, everything will be fine." I tell her and pull her to the nearest bench where I force her to sit down. "You can do this. Talk to George. I'm sure he'll be happy, ecstatic even. Just talk to him, so that you don't continue to ramble on like you belong on the psych floor."

I see her smile and I'm glad that I've eased at least a portion of her tension, which I'll only add back once I tell her my plans of abandoning her and never being able to catch that drink we wanted to.

"Umm…Cal?" You speak after a few moments of silence. You don't want to leave the only friend you seem to have in this God forsaken city, but you know that it isn't enough of a reason. You need to be away from interns sleeping with residents, the constant competition and the huge egos.

"Don't tell me you're pregnant too?"

You laugh with her and immediately shake your head and take a deep breath.

"I'm leaving." You sigh and are almost afraid to look into her eyes because you know that she was just as desperate for companionship as you were, and that when you leave, your title of Ruler of All That is Evil will be bestowed upon her.

"What do you, I mean where are you going?"

"I'm going to L.A. I already have a job with an old friend in a private practice. Not as fast-paced. Who knows? Maybe, I'll actually get a life." You try to laugh it off, try not to let her see that you have no clue what you're doing.

"That's great. When I get knocked up, the foremost neonatal surgeon decides to up and leave me in the hands of God knows who."

You pull her into a hug then. "Call me up for any reason and I will be here in 2 hours." You promise her and have calculated the exact time in your mind, should anything happen.

"And if you don't call me at least three times a week, know that I will show up at your door and kick your ass."

You both smile at that and you immediately say, "Okay, mom," which inevitably leads to a giant smack on the arm. "Talk to George. Everything will be fine." You grow serious now because you know that you really should be leaving soon. Naomi is expecting you and you still have shoes that need packing.

"I will. You be safe. There are a lot of weirdoes in Los Angeles."

You feel her pull you into a hug as you both stand up.

"And good luck with finding a life."

You're both laughing to keep from crying and you untangle from each other. "I solemnly swear that I will keep in touch and keep away from the weirdoes of L.A." You put a hand to your heart and when she tells you she'll miss you, you let a few tears fall before both of you are walking in opposite directions.

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Three days in Los Angeles and you would give anything for the rain of Seattle or the cold, snow of New York. You throw the comforter over your head as you try and let your eyes adjust to the bright light coming in from the window despite your attempts at putting up blinds and curtains. After ten minutes, you throw the covers back and drag yourself out of bed.

While you do everything necessary to get ready for work, you feel even more useless and out of place than you did when you first entered Seattle Grace. You have yet to have even one patient and if you have to answer another question from Dell, you feel that you will not be to blame for what may follow.

You know that you're not wanted at the Oceanside Wellness Center. That has been made increasingly obvious by the conversations that grow quiet when you enter the room for coffee and the constant jabs that come with being a surgeon without a hospital.

When you're sitting through two hours of traffic on your way to the practice, you surprise yourself when you let your thoughts drift and they decide to focus on memories of Mark.


	2. Whatever It Takes

**Chapter 2-Whatever It Takes**

_"The most important thing in life is to learn how to give out love, and let it come in. We think we don't deserve love, we think that if we let it in we'll become soft. Love is only a rational act."_

You've kept a low profile for the last few days. You've gone to work and immediately after, returned to the hotel where thoughts of Addison plague your mind. You've tried more than anything to focus on something other than the fact that she is no longer three rooms away. You can picture her, most likely sleeping soundly, and when you close your eyes, you can almost feel the way her body molds perfectly to your own.

You don't think you've ever hated Derek, even when the three of you were in New York and the calls from a crying Addison became more frequent, and you would walk into the Brownstone and pull the redhead into your lap and promise her that her husband did in fact still love her. You didn't hate him then. He was your brother, entitled to mistakes, but as you remember him speaking about Addison's departure to L.A., you grow so angry at the smirk that played across his face and the look of triumph he carried all day that you decide you aren't going to put your effort into mending what portion of brotherhood you two have left.

When you arrive at the hospital, drenched entirely, your leather jacket dripping water, your shoes sloshing against the sterile floor, you realize that Karev will be with you for your entire shift. You inwardly sigh and huff as you see him walk towards you, a cup of what you believe to be a bone-dry cappuccino in his hand, which he passes to you.

"What the hell is this, Karev?" You ask him as you throw the container back into his hand, almost spilling the hot liquid.

"I know for a fact that this is the right order. I watched the guy make it."

You know he's right. It tasted good, perfect really, but you refuse to give him that satisfaction. After all, he is partially responsible for Addison's departure and if you are going to be miserable, you are damn well going to make sure he is as well.

"Then you need to get your eyes checked because I definitely tasted cinnamon. How do you expect for me to let you scrub in on a surgery when you can't even get coffee right?" Your tone is rising and you know that people are starting to stare. "I'll be damned if I'm going to allow you to cause any more pain. Go back to the land of pink and squishy, Karev."

You immediately regret speaking about that particular specialty because now all that you can think about are salmon scrubs and a woman leaning over incubators, smiling and whispering to the tiny infants inside. You're quiet for well over a minute and you can tell that Alex Karev is confused by the way he is looking at you and really you have no explanation for your slight melt down aside from the lack of seeing a certain redhead, glasses perched on her nose, and the missing sound of heels clicking on the linoleum flooring that could be mistaken for no other.

"Just go prep the patient, Karev." You try to keep the edge in your voice, but feel defeated and wait until he turns and walks away before putting your hands over your face in an attempt to rid yourself of the flashbacks that seem to be a constant now.

------------------------------------

You find yourself at Joe's after your shift, but unlike your normal motives on nights like these, you can't seem to bring yourself to look around at the potential women or even order your normal drink, so you sit, nursing a glass of water.

Your head is now resting on your arms and you don't notice that someone is sitting beside you until you hear them speak.

"What the hell is the reason for that face?"

You instantly recognize the voice of your ex-brother and make no effort to move or even look his way.

"Mark."

You slowly remove your face from the crook of your arm and look at the man smiling, occupying the stool beside your own, a drink now in his hand.

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

You don't justify that with an answer. The reason you're so miserable is the very reason he's the happiest you've seen him in over four years, so you feel there's no point in trying to discuss why you look like you've lost your best friend because really you have and right now you're just trying to get by without her here.

When you feel his constant stare, you finally break. "I miss her." You know that your voice cracks as you say it and the Mark Sloan of your previous life would have mocked you for depending so much on one person, and you know that Derek is thinking of doing that exact thing. "I don't want to hear it." You tell him when he opens his mouth to speak. "You asked what was wrong. I told you. I didn't expect commentary." You turn away from him then, expecting him to leave.

"Come on, Mark. Get over it. There are plenty of willing women in this place that would suit well for your next fuck buddy."

You turn your head so fast that the room seems to blur and you see him still smiling, more so than before. You feel a surge of rage go through your body, a warming sensation that is taking over and you stand up for more emphasis. "You don't know what the fuck you're talking about."

"Spare me that shit, Mark. You forget that I've known you since you were looking up girls' skirts on the playground. I don't buy for one second that you actually loved her. It was all about the ego. You just wanted her because she was mine."

He's standing in front of you now. Your eyes locked on the other and your fist is clinching at your side.

"She wasn't yours, Derek," you spit out, shaking your head. "Do you know how many nights she called me crying, wondering why she wasn't good enough for you, why you wouldn't just come home and love her?" You look at him and hope to see a glimmer of guilt, regret, something other than the blank blue eyes that stare back at you. "She was wrong though. It was always the other way around." You sigh and lower your head. "Neither one of us deserved her."

You hear him almost snort in reply. "I'm in love with her. I regret nothing." You emphasize. "She wore her wedding rings the whole time we were together. She aborted my baby and left me to chase after you. She slept with Alex Karev and… I'm in love with her." You smile now and almost choke out a laugh.

"There is something wrong with you."

You watch as he walks away and you're surprised at how relieved you feel after your conversation. You've never admitted your feelings. You've expressed small portions to Addison, but you've never told anyone else how important she was to you, how much you live for her witty remarks, and the way she pouts when she doesn't get her way.

You look towards Joe and order your usual, taking your spot back on the stool. You have thousands of thoughts running through your mind now, each of them only strengthening your desire to pack up the life you have and start over.

"Sloan," You turn when you hear your name and watch as the raven-haired vixen takes what was Derek's stool.

"And to what do I owe this pleasure?" You smile slightly at her. "Have you talked to her?" Your demeanor immediately shifts and by the look she throws your way, you know she wouldn't say anything if she had. "Fine, don't tell me." You sigh and take a sip of the scotch Joe placed in front of you.

"She's okay, Mark. She's just trying to get used to L.A."

You can tell that she's taking Addison's departure hard as well. She looks tired and paler than normal and you almost ask her if she's alright, but think better of asking a woman who breaks bones for a living why she looks like hell warmed over.

"I miss her too."

You think it's weird that Callie Torres seems to be the only person in Seattle that actually takes their time to understand you and now you know why she and Addison became so close of friends in such a short time.

"Then let's bask in our misery together." You're completely serious despite the joking tone of your voice. "How about a drink?"

"Why don't you get back to me in nine months."

You stare incredulously. "So O'Malley actually stepped up, huh?" You smile at her but immediately stop when you see her face drop. "It is his kid, isn't it?" The glare you get from her is a sufficient answer in and of itself. "So what's the problem?"

"He doesn't know. I tried to tell him, but he didn't want to listen to me and stalked off and now I don't think he wants to have this baby."

It scares you that she is expressing her innermost thoughts and fears. You're definitely not the person who gives advice, but you notice she's on the verge of tears even though she rolls her eyes and tries to play it off.

"I can't believe I just told you that."

You know she's embarrassed, and you know all she really wants to do is change the subject. "I'm thinking about moving to L.A." You see her sigh of relief at the drop of the baby issue.

"Do it."

She's smiling at you and those 2 simple words are all you need to make you throw a few bills on the bar, finish your drink, and stand. After all, if her best friend isn't against you heading off to join her, Addison must not be completely against your relationship. "I am." Your lips curl into that McSteamy smile and wink at her. "Talk to him. Make him listen." You're walking to the door now and you turn around when you hear her speak.

"Same goes for you. You know how stubborn she is."

"Yeah, I know. Good luck with the baby." With that, you walk out of Joe's and within thirty minutes, your flight is booked and you're practically packed. You'll deal with the Richard aftermath eventually, so instead you leave a message on his voicemail informing him of, not requesting, your indefinite absence from the hospital. With a few more clothes crammed into your carry-on bag, you check out of the hotel that's been your home for months and as the rain continues to fall, you let out a sigh of relief as you leave the city of ex-brothers, walking pneumonia, and horny interns.


	3. I Still Believe in Our Love Right Now

Chapter 3-I Still Believe in Our Love Right Now

_"I want to hide what's deep in my eyes. I'm scared to be known by you. But when I turn my head and see you there, I want to be pursued."_

You mentally kick yourself for not cornering Callie and demanding that she give you specifics on Addison's whereabouts before leaving Seattle because really your idea of a fun day is not sitting in traffic and finding every medical center in an effort to locate the redhead. You've called Callie at least fifteen times by this point, your second day in Los Angeles and have left a number of threatening voicemails, which she has yet to respond to. You try one last time.

"You were the one that encouraged me to come." You protest, utterly frustrated with the raven-haired woman and when you say this she begins to spout out a whole speech about bonding over stillborn infants and your sexual indiscretions. You roll your eyes as you listen, but when you hear the words, "Ya-Ya Sisterhood," you immediately end the conversation, because while you understand the bond they share and that they have this BFF thing going on, it does nothing to help your male ego when you understand the reference behind the phrase.

When you pick up your phone again, while she still refuses to give you an exact location, you are now the proud holder of the phone number of one Addison Montgomery.

-------------------------------------

You are seriously considering throwing you cell phone into the Pacific Ocean right now because if you hear it ring one more time, you are certain you're going to lose your mind. You need him to stop calling, to give you space and allow you to move on because every time the phone rings, all you can think about is the last time you saw him and that is not helping with the moving on, starting a new life situation.

"Calliope Iphegenia Torres! You gave him my number when I specifically told you not to and he has called twenty three times in the last two hours, so just so you know, once you give birth I fully intend to give you the beating you deserve." You hear a beep and know that he's calling again.

"Addison, maybe.."

"I'm marking the date." You cut her off. "I'm marking the date a week after your due date. I reserve the right to take out my frustration on you." You sigh and remain silent for a minute. "I just want to forget. I just want to stop picturing his defeated look the last time I saw him."

"I know but maybe you shouldn't. He's trying so hard and if it's this hard for you to forget, then it probably means something. Just answer the next time he calls."

You know she's right. You know you feel something for Mark. You've always felt something for Mark and have been afraid of what that something actually means.

"Yeah," You know your voice seems far away, so you pull yourself back into the moment. "I think I need to just clear my mind. Thanks Callie. I'm still bitter though." You both laugh and you tell her to take care or your godchild before you hang up the phone.

---------------------------

You've given up for the day. She has yet to answer one call, so you sit and allow the sand to filter through your fingers as you watch the waves crash into one another. You saw the beach from the highway and decided you had nothing better to do. You could always just go back to your hotel room, watch a movie which would inevitably remind you of Addison and end up completely lost in thoughts of her, so you decided to cut through the middle-man and go straight to thinking about her.

You imagine that she's been to the beach since she's been in L.A. and if you think about it, you can picture her lying on the sand, sunbathing, a thing you made fun of her for when a few years ago, the three of you traveled to the Caribbean and she refused to enter the water with you and Derek which of course led to you picking her up and bringing her to the water.

You wish to return to that time because even if she was your best friend's wife, a fact that kept her from being truly yours, she was at least your friend, and really you'd settle for anything when it comes to her.

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You drove for five minutes, which places you now standing in the sand, your shoes now in your hand because in the time you've been here, this has become your private sanctuary despite the thirty odd people that surround you at the moment. You've learned where the cleanest part of the beach is, the space in which there is no need for shoes and you are able to enjoy the feeling of sand between your toes. You continue to walk closer, so that you can sit and watch the waves crashing without actually getting wet because you still need to return to work and cold wet sand clinging to you is not exactly what you consider fun or comfortable.

You came here to clear your mind, to sit and feel the breeze and forget about the cell phone you are certain is ringing in your car. You came here to not think about Mark so why is he the only thing you can think about when you see a man sitting alone, pouring sand through his hands?

You inwardly sigh and call yourself delusional, but as he comes more into your view, you are now certain of the owner of the broad shoulders, and the light brown grey streaked curls.

"Mark." You can't help but let the name roll off your lips.

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You immediately turn where you hear her, more from the sound of her voice than the fact that your name has just been called.

"Addison." You smile at her and while it's only been a few days since you've last seen her, you can't help but take in everything about her. "Couldn't stay away from me, huh?" You laugh and try to ease the awkward silence that has somehow made its way between you.

"What are you doing here?"

"I thought that would be obvious. You go, I follow. Isn't that our constant pattern?" You mean to lighten the mood but somehow you've only made it worse and your heart sinks when you see anger form in her eyes.

"Isn't it clear that this pattern doesn't work? We keep hurting each other, Mark. Go back to Seattle. Patch things up with Derek, or go back to New York. You love New York."

"So do you." You throw back. She's not fooling you. You know she isn't cut out for constant sun and warmth. She loves the snow too much, the sound of it sloshing under her feet, the winter shopping for coats and gloves. She won't give those up. "Why are you here?"

"I needed a break. I wanted to get away and you are making it impossible to forget about the rain and baggage that is Seattle."

You watch as she shrugs her shoulders and throws herself down beside you. "You can't just forget about your past life, Addison. It's who you are whether you want to admit it or not. You don't belong here."

"Why? Because you say so?"

"You hate the water." You simply inform her. "You haven't been in the ocean in seven years and you almost had a panic attack when a fish swam by you and touched your foot. You don't belong here."

"There's more to L.A. than the ocean."

She's defensive and you choose to attack at another angle. "How many surgeries have you performed today, yesterday?" By the look on her face, you know you've struck a nerve. You've been to every hospital in L.A. and know that no person by the name Addison Montgomery works there, so you assume she has chosen an alternative workplace. "You're a surgeon, Addison. You're the foremost Neonatal surgeon in the country. You need to cut." You watch her think for a moment.

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"Why you do care?" You ask him when he continues to break down everything you've been questioning yourself. It's enough that you've been feeling completely out of place. You don't need him to tell you that you hate the ocean. You know this. The idea of slimy fish swimming around you makes your stomach lurch and you're aware that you need to be standing in an O.R. with many people ready to take orders, a scalpel in one hand, a life for you to save on the table. You don't need him here making you feel even worse.

"Why are you here? You broke the bet. You couldn't go sixty days for me. You don't want to be with me. Just leave." You know you sound defeated and really you shouldn't bring up the bet since you broke it as well, but you're not the one chasing him, so you think it's a good point. He proved he wasn't capable of a real relationship, so why does he insist or bringing the rain of Seattle to Los Angeles.

"I didn't."

It's simple and you know the words pain him to say. "What?" You need an explanation.

"I didn't break the bet. I saw you and the intern. You were the one that didn't want to be with me and instead of just telling me, you went and screwed Karev."

You hear his voice rise. "Why did you lie to me? Why didn't you just tell me you knew?"

"I wanted to let you go. If you didn't want to be with me, I didn't want you to feel guilty for leaving and I tried to be okay with that decision, but I couldn't. I need you to know that I was and am willing to do the full relationship thing."

You can't wrap your mind around what he's just said. You shouldn't be angry at him for lying because really the whole thing was your fault because you were lusting over an intern, but you can't help but be mad at him. You wouldn't have left had you known. You might not be working in a place where your O.R. consists of pillows and a couch instead of cold, sterile, metal. You wouldn't be working with a group of people minus two that despise you for coming into their club.

"I can't believe you lied to me!" You scream this and you know people probably think you've found out about an affair and would find the irony in the fact that it was the exact opposite if you weren't seething. You're being overly emotional and you understand this, but the part of your brain that should tell you to stop seems to be malfunctioning. "You told me you broke the bet, so I picked up my life and moved here!"

"You slept with Karev!"

You're definitely making a scene now as both of you stand and you shake your shoes at him. "And how many women did you sleep with while we were together?!" It's uncalled for really because at the time you were twirling wedding rings around your finger and hoping that your husband would return.

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"You killed our child!" You curse yourself the second it leaves your lips because you never wanted to bring that up again but she keeps bringing up the past and you let it slip. You see the angry tears beginning to fall and try to grab her arm when she turns away from you, red hair hitting you in the face. You hear a whispered, "Bastard," before she pulls her arm from her grip and you just stand there, watching as she makes her way to her car.

"Fuck." You run your hands through your hair and feel like punching something or better yet, pretending like the last ten minutes didn't happen. You wipe the sand from the back of your jeans and make your way back to your own rental car, wishing Derek was here just so he could deliver a swift kick in your ass because now you know you deserve it.


	4. Heart Lost in Nowhere

-1_Something is scratching its way out  
Something you want to forget about  
No one expects you to get up  
All on your own with no one around_

You don't return to work after escaping the beach, a hasty voicemail sent to Naomi as your only contact, informing the center of your absence. You can't face any of them, can't take the snaky comments you've heard coming from Violet, the constant flirting from Pete, and the incessant talking from Dell. You can't look at any of them right now, not when you can't even look at yourself. You quickly turn from the mirror, grabbing a tissue and dabbing at your face, not that it makes any difference. The few tears you manage to wipe away are replaced seconds later, so you give up on trying to rid your face of the streaks that come with tears and mascara.

You begin savagely ripping through boxes you have yet to unpack. Books, pictures, and a myriad of other items now cover the floor of your bedroom and when you fail to find what you're looking for, you grow even more frantic.

You can't see through the tears falling now and your breathing is erratic. You know you packed it, took it from the nightstand which was your hiding place and put it with the things you consider most important. But you've searched through your box of mementos, photos which boast a happy trio on graduation day, a group wedding photo with a suspiciously sad eyed best man standing between you and the groom, but it's not there.

You decide to try and clean up the scattered mess you've created so you bend down and start to place the pictures together when you see the small box peeking from under your bed. You feel relief sweep through you as you move to pull the box close to you.

The shoe box once held a pair of God-awful pumps which you received from Mark for your 30th birthday. You smile as you think about how happy he was with himself when he handed the gift to you and you didn't have the heart to explain to him that expensive doesn't always equal tasteful.

The shoes are long since gone now and you can't remember if they were given to charity or one of Derek's sisters, but you've kept the box for reasons you couldn't understand, organized along with the massive collection of shoes you own, empty.

It isn't empty now and you take a deep breath as you open the box and pull the white piece of cloth out and run your fingers along the embroidered 'NY.' You bring the tiny clothing close to your face and you can almost smell the infant that it was supposed to belong to. Your tears are falling harder now and when you know you've soaked a good portion of the onesie, you return it to it's home in the old shoe box and take out what you've been looking for. You focus hard on the grainy picture, the flimsy medium threatening to crinkle. It's not at all clear and too early for any person to see a thing aside from a small mass, but you can picture the limbs that grow longer, the fingers moving.

You move to the bed now, the sonogram still held tightly in your grasp and allow yourself to fall on the bed. You know it is the thing you regret the most, the moment in your life that you wish you could take back.

------------------------

_You can't describe the feeling when you sit in the waiting room, a doctor who's job it was to keep infants alive is now going against everything she believes in, wants. You aren't ready, you tell yourself. It won't work out. A baby deserves two happy parents, not a mother who can't stop thinking about a man that has long since forgotten her and a father who can't stay faithful long enough to have a meaningful relationship. You know he slept with Charlene because he noticed the unsigned divorce papers that lay scattered with the newspaper and the rings that you refuse to pry off your finger, but that doesn't matter. You need to believe he'd be a horrible father. He is Mark Sloan after all and thinking that both of you would only ruin a child's life makes it easier, so that when your name is called, you take a deep breath and follow the nurse. Now you've stopped thinking altogether, knowing you will change your mind if given the chance. _

_You return to the apartment that night and are surprised at the sounds you hear in the kitchen. He's cooking for you and all you can think about is lying down to alleviate the empty queasiness that now fills your stomach. _

_He greets you then with promises of monogamy and dreams about raising your child and you rush past him and spill the non-existent contents of your body into the toilet. He's beside you the next moment, holding your hair back and laughs about morning sickness lasting all day and it only makes you feel more sick. _

_When you've finished dry heaving, he offers you saltines and ginger ale and brings you to the couch before pulling out a bag, and your heart falls when he forces you to open what you know you'll never have the need for. The onesie is white with black stripes and you stop breathing when you see the calendar inside as well and you know before you look at it, that he's marked the date. _

_You can't take it anymore and you carelessly toss the items to the floor. "You slept with someone. This can't work."_

"_I'll try. I promise. We can do this. We'll work it out. No more nurses. Just us."_

"_There's no us," You protest. You can't listen to him anymore. You need to be away from him, away from the reminder of what you've done. You walk into the bedroom and start packing. Giving up on order, you simply toss the garments in as fast as you can. _

"_Addison, stop. We need to talk about this. You can't just leave. We need to talk about the baby."_

_You immediately cringe at his first use of that word and while you continue to rip clothing out of the closet, so you don't see the look on his face, you tell him. "There's no baby."_

_--------------------------------------_

You didn't sleep last night, didn't move. And now you're paying for it with bloodshot eyes and the constant aching in your body.

"What happened to you?"

You don't answer Violet as you fill your coffee cup and simply take it back to your office. You finally have a patient and need to try to make yourself look more presentable. You don't have a chance as Dell bursts into your office with offers of help and a rambling of his abilities.

"No Dell. I don't need you today. I can handle it. Go answer the phone." You sound like a bitch but the last thing you need is his constant pestering and it's already impossible for you to function on your own without another person taking all of your energy.

Mark hasn't called and you're frightened by how much that fact makes you want to cry. You weren't supposed to let these feelings resurface. You convinced yourself that they were buried, that you could start over in California, but as the phone rings and your eyes blur from oncoming tears when you see that it isn't him, you know you've just been fooling yourself.

Your first appointment is smooth, a simple check up on an expectant mother, happily looking at the image of her child on the screen, her hand clasped with her husband's.

It shouldn't hurt so much to see a happy couple. You shouldn't feel a pain in your heart every time you see him place a hand on her stomach and smile. It shouldn't make you sick to hear the bickering over names as they wait for test results.

Everything checks out normal and you give them the good news and send them home with a simple prescription for prenatal vitamins and you're glad when they leave, so that you can drop the smile you've kept on your face.

-----------------------------

You still haven't heard from Mark and you're beginning to think he's back in Seattle. What reason would he have for staying now? It's been five days since the beach and you think God hates you because you've had six appointments, each happily married and ecstatic over the upcoming arrival of their child. You've seen nothing but happy and perfect and you really should be grateful that you haven't had to express bad news to parents or tell a young girl she has gonorrhea, but it doesn't help how you're feeling about your life at the moment to see everything you're missing out on.

Pete has insisted on flirting with you which has varied from light teasing to first grade mocking. You want to scream that you're already in love and don't need a quack of a doctor constantly making passes at you, but admitting is the first step and you can't seem to move your feet towards that.

Instead you roll your eyes when you're asked why you look coked out and tell him you're trying a Lindsay Lohan thing, to which he has no answer, so you're able to walk away and make yourself sleep before your next patient because sleep hasn't been your friend lately and you haven't been able to get more than two hours of sleep a night since you've last seen Mark.

When you enter your office, your phone signals that you have a voicemail and the simple, "Sorry," that you hear when you replay it, is enough to make you smile and when you attempt to sleep this time, it takes only a moment for your eyes to close and your breathing to slow and welcome the much needed slumber.


	5. A Hard Day's Journey

_Chapter 5-A Hard Day's Journey_

The phone in her office jolting her from the first peaceful rest she's had in days, Addison yawns when she answers, trying to rid the tired sound from her voice.

"Doctor Addison Montgomery."

"_I told him," _the woman declares. _"I told him and he smiled and laughed and we're looking for a house."_

"I told you he'd be happy." Addison smiles, so glad that things are going right for her best friend. Someone needs good and happy at the moment and Callie deserves it. "How do you feel about making a move to L.A.?" she jokes though the underlining seriousness is definitely present.

"_How do you feel about making a move back to Seattle?" _Callie counters.

The fact that Addison says nothing for over a minute is telling and when she does speak, it's strictly to change the subject. "How are you feeling?"

"_Good. Tired and nauseous but good." _Addison can hear the excitement in her best friend's voice. "_I feel so much better now that he knows. I think I can actually do this. And how are dealing with Mark?"_

"I'm not," Addison simply states. "We had a fight a few days ago. He didn't break our bet."

"_I know that," _Callie almost laughs. _"Everyone knows that."_

"How?" she's even more frustrated now. "How could everyone know and not me?"

"_Because he was too afraid of screwing up his last chance with you. There's no way he would have cheated and I've had to listen to the nurses whine about the lack of McSteamy flirting. Revolting, really."_

Addison doesn't know what she can say, so she simply tells Callie she'll call her back and puts the phone back on its charger, she lets her face fall into her hands and can't believe she missed how much devotion he had actually put into another chance.

-------------------------------------------

Addison's only patient of the day consists of Chelsey Henderson, a 40 year old woman previously diagnosed with preeclampsia now in her sixth month of pregnancy.

"You were diagnosed with preeclampsia two weeks ago?" Addison asks, looking at her patient's files and though the diagnosis is clearly printed on the paper, she needs to hear it because she knows the complications associated with toxemia and the fact that the longer the pregnancy continues, the higher the fatality rate for both mother and child.

Chelsey sighs. "Yeah. She's making this difficult on me."

They both smile as Ms. Henderson places a hand on her protruding abdomen.

"While we're waiting on your test results, let's have a look at her," Addison smiles, not willing to upset a woman that seems so blissfully happy. "Have you had any problems, pain, cramping, bleeding?"

"Some pain in my back and abdomen. No bleeding though" she answers as the heartbeat of the infant fills the room and while Chelsey Henderson seems delighted by the rhythmic beating, Addison knows that it should certainly be faster than what it is.

Addison searches the ultrasound for the culprit of the weaker heartbeat and hopes that Dell is rushing the results as she told him to.

"Do you have children?" Ms. Henderson breaks the silence.

"No," It's Addison's turn to sigh now.

"You will." Chelsey seems certain. "I remember that feeling. I didn't think it would happen and now I have Bethany."

Addison takes a sharp intake of breath as she sees the placenta, separated from the uterine wall. It isn't a complete tear, so as Addison explains what is happening and Chelsey and the baby are attached to heart monitors and an IV is administered, she's certain she can stop the condition from worsening and get baby Beth's heart rate back into the normal range.

St. Ambrose is on standby though and unfortunately, three hours later, Addison cannot wait any longer as both mother and daughter's heart rates take a drastic drop and they're rushed to the hospital.

"You'll take care of her?" she pleads with Addison as she is wheeled into O.R. 2 where Bethany Leigh Henderson will be born. "She's my life."

"I'll do what I can," Addison promises and since she doesn't in fact say that she promises she'll save baby Beth, she doesn't think she's broken one of the medical cardinal rules.

Despite the knowledge that at twenty-four weeks, Bethany's lungs will be severely under-developed and that an infant born at this point has only a fifty percent chance of life at best, she is determined to do everything in her power to bring the girl into the world and eventually pass her to her mother to raise.

Good people deserve good things: a whispered mantra that constantly repeats in her head, a reminder that she deserves every bit of karma that comes back.

Bethany Leigh is welcomed into the world, two minutes after Chelsey was put under. The infant doesn't cry and even though Addison knew she wouldn't, she still expected the loud noise to penetrate the still, sterile room. Her skin is translucent and Addison is afraid of what her patient will think when she wakes up to see the tiny baby, veins visible, unmoving.

After resuscitation on the not breathing baby is performed and successful, a blood gas analysis shows what was feared and it is established that the premature girl has a severe case of Neonatal Respiratory Distress Syndrome. The odds of her survival continue to plummet and she's immediately placed on a machine to both deliver oxygen and keep her lungs inflated.

Chelsey Henderson wakes up with "Beth" on her lips and Addison has to explain the extent of the girl's medical condition, but she stops listening after "the next twelve hours are critical" leave the doctor's mouth.

It goes against everything Addison Montgomery has ever learned in her years of medical experience, but she's wheeling a woman who has had major surgery only five hours before to the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit to peer into the incubator at the tiny pink bundle hooked to monitors, small body moving up and down though not of her own accord, aided by the machine breathing for her.

"She's all I have," Chelsey stares at the small girl. "She was my last chance. I got sick of waiting for _that_ guy. All I need is her."

Addison places a reassuring arm on her shoulder.

-------------------------------------

Sitting on the stairs in the exact place she sat when she learned of her infertility, Addison cries again, this time over the loss of an actual child, something so much harder to grasp than the idea of potential children. She held this girl in her arms, looked into her mother's eyes and said she'd save her and now she's a complete failure.

Only an hour after Chelsey Henderson laid eyes on her daughter, did she hemorrhage into her brain, and all hope was soon lost, her mother deciding it best to simply let the small girl go, her brain non-functional now.

Addison holds her breath to stop the small whimpers that leave her lips when she hears the creak of a door. She doesn't turn around, hoping they'll simply turn and leave and she won't have to explain her tear-stained cheeks. She isn't that lucky though and before she knows what is happening, she's been pulled into strong arms and her head is tilted up towards the slate eyes that bore into her own. He's now rubbing soft circles on her back and she hears a whispered, "Breathe" and she doesn't realize until she's released a breath, that her own chest hasn't moved in almost a minute.

"Breathe, Addi," He continues to soothe her and notices that she's biting on her lower lip, a sign that she's holding in emotions that need to be in the open. "I heard." he simply whispers and when the audible gasp slips from her mouth, he removes his arm from around her and uses both hands to hold her head in place. "It's not your fault."

He sees her shield begin to weaken and within a minute, she's in his lap, and his shoulder is drenched in tears, so he shifts her and offers his dry one in its place, which prompts a new set of water to pour from her eyes.

Ten minutes later, Addison is sure she's dehydrated from the crying she's done and when she assures Mark that she is finished being dramatic, he simply smiles, and wipes the remaining lines from her face with his thumbs before placing a kiss on her forehead.

"Good," he simply says. "I was afraid I would be cleaning an Addison puddle off of the stairs." He's proud of himself when he sees the smile he loves make its way across her face.


	6. Beauty in the Breakdown

-1**Chapter 6-Beauty in the Breakdown**

When Mark stands and offers a hand to her, it takes only a second before Addison concedes and allows him to pull her from the stairs. He pulls her close and offers his support by placing an arm around her waist. In a minute, Addison realizes she's been vulnerable enough for the day and wrenches herself from his grasp.

"Thanks, Mark." She offers him a smile and tries to prove to him that she is in fact alright and capable of walking on her own accord. "I just want to get back to my next patient." And when she begins to leave, realization strikes. "Damn it."

Mark knows she came with her patient in an ambulance and is now virtually stranded at the hospital. "I'll drive you back."

The short drive is quiet and tense, the fact that they haven't spoken about the fight yet weighing heavily on each of their minds.

"So…."Mark begins, laughing slightly.

Addison does nothing more than laugh a little herself, not yet willing to talk about it. It isn't until Mark has pulled into the parking lot of the Wellness Clinic that she realizes what time it is and that any patient she did have scheduled today is no longer waiting on her arrival.

"I don't have anything to do here," she simply states, her voice small and though her red sports car is visible from where they are, Addison gives Mark directions and he begins to drive, the worry about getting to work the next day forgotten.

He steps out of the car so that he can walk her to the door and admire the scenery. "So, you're really living at the beach."

"Yeah," she quickly responds, not sure what else there is to say. "It's soothing." She looks at him and for some reason feels the need to clarify. "The waves are."

"Doesn't beat the sound of people screaming and car horns blaring though." He smirks.

"Of course not." she states sarcastically while unlocking the door.

She walks in and holds the door open though she isn't sure why. She doesn't know what she'll say to him if he stays, but she can't close him out, not again.

He isn't sure he should go in, so he stands looking for some sign that she wants him to. When she moves slightly out of the doorway, he makes his decision and walks past her into the house. He came for her. He isn't going to bow out and run back to Seattle now.

After a quick tour of the house that makes putting off a meaningful conversation easier, Mark notices that Addison is on the brink of tears and convinces her that a hot bath might make her feel better and since this would give both a chance to think of something to say, she agrees, leaving Mark to roam through the house.

He prepares dinner while she bathes, something he's never been amazing at, but he likes to think there are a few meals he can make without burning them or sending the unlucky victims that eat it to the hospital to have their stomachs pumped. It's a simple pasta dish that really would be hard to screw up, but he takes pride in it.

When he reaches her room and moves to the adjoining bathroom to knock and inform her dinner is ready and will be cold if she takes too much longer, he hears the masked sobs and stops himself. She's always been the hardest on herself, taking on everyone's problems as her own, so that when it comes to her own problems, that task of so much weight on her shoulders becomes too much.

He decides he'll simply wait for her to finish, so he moves to the bed and sits, the many boxes that still fill the room scattered about. He smiles when he notices the shoe box on her nightstand and can't believe she's kept the shoes for so long especially since he's certain of her disdain for them. The fact that he never once saw the shoes on her feet was proof enough despite the fake smile she gave upon receiving them.

Removing the lid, he has to take in a deep breath when he sees that it is anything but expensive, hated shoes inside the box. He picks up the image of his child, one she never shared with him, and he can't help but let a surge of anger shoot through his body. This little being that was a part of him and Addison that he had been excited about. He sees the clothing he bought for what would be their son or daughter and lets the anger subside. She kept these things. When she could have rid herself of the memory of this child ever existing, this tie between the two of them, she kept them as a reminder.

When he hears her movement and the sobs have ceased, he places the picture back and puts the box where he left it, walking to the living room to watch the game he had planned to watch with Derek and when she walks out of the bedroom, ten minutes later, he smiles at how beautiful she is when she simply leaves her hair alone to dry on its own and decides against makeup.

"I made dinner," he says when he stands up and turns the game off despite the homerun that just took place.

"Turn it back on," she encourages. "I know this is a big game and we can eat in here."

When both are situated with plates of pasta and their drink of choice: a glass of wine for Addison, and a beer for Mark that he was surprised to find she had, they settle into a quiet rhythm of eating and watching the game, looking to the other on occasion. And it takes twenty minutes before either of them work up the courage to bring it up.

"I saw it," Mark states so ambiguously which causes her forehead to crinkle in confusion. "In the shoebox."

She immediately knows what he's talking about. "Oh."

"You didn't show it to me," the pain in his voice is so blunt that all Addison wants to do is get up and run so she can cry in peace because she never wants to hear that much hurt and know that she's to blame.

"I'm sorry, Mark." And now she can't stop the tears from falling. "If I could…"

And then before she can finish her regret, she's being pulled into his arms again and he's promising that he doesn't hate her for what she's done despite her protests that he should.

"If it's any consolation, I'm being punished for it now." She says after a few moments and she's coming off bitter and sarcastic now and really doesn't mean to, but life is making it too hard to be optimistic or anything of the sort.

Now it's Mark's turn to be confused by such a vague statement. "What are you talking about?"

"I can't get pregnant. My FSH Level is high and my antral follicle count is only 2. I lost my chance. God is punishing me." She clings to him and the crying that racks her body is so severe that his body is shaking because of the movement.

"Addi." He tries to get her attention. "Addison, listen to me," but if she can hear him over her sobs, she isn't giving any indication. He all but screams her name again before she finally looks at him and her heartbeat seems to return to its normal pace. "Addison, baby, God is not punishing you and just because there might be problems, does not mean it won't happen. There's still a chance."

"_I'm so sorry," _is a phrase that leaves her lips so often throughout the next few hours that it doesn't even sound like words anymore to Mark who continuously traces patterns on her back in a soothing motion as she goes through every emotion.

He continues to run a hand through her hair when she begins to pound his chest in an angry fit of _I hate you's _and places kisses in her hair when she retracts everything she ever said about his parenting abilities and wipes the tears that fall when she repeatedly apologizes for the mistake she made by sleeping with an intern.

It's midnight when Mark realizes that she's completely silent and the sound of her breathing indicates that she's sleeping now, so he picks the redhead up and carries her to bed, covering her loosely with a blanket. He leans down and swiftly places a kiss on her cheek before moving to make sure windows and doors are locked before he can allow himself to leave her here alone. He doesn't make it to the door though because he hears her small plea.

"I don't want to be alone."

And so he removes his clothing until he's down to boxers and an undershirt, and then lies beside her, closer to the edge for fear of making her uncomfortable. He feels her hand pulling on his, though, and realizes that she needs more than an absent person huddling away from her. She needs to feel safe, loved, so when he turns around, she immediately pushes herself back against him and pulls him arm over her waist so that she can be closer, entwining her hand with his over her stomach. With one leg between his and her head safely nuzzled in the crook of his neck, she lets out a sigh before Mark can tell that she's actually sleeping peacefully. He's more content than he's been in a long time and finds that sleep comes so much easier when he's holding her in his arms.

He hears a quiet _"Mark, I love you" _and looks over to see her mouth curl up into a smile as he drifts off to sleep.


	7. Awaited Deliverance Comforts the Seeking

-1**Chapter 7-The Awaited Deliverance Comforts the Seeking**

He wakes up before she does, a difference from the many nights he spent with her in Seattle. Addison was precise and methodical and by the time he woke up, her shower would be finished, hair straightened, and shoes picked out for the day. He's amazed that such a short time in California could disrupt their pattern so much. He admits he enjoys this so much more, the fact that he can watch as her chest rises and falls so easily. She looks peaceful, lips curled in a smile still from the night before. Her body is still molded to his and he almost stops breathing in an effort not to disturb her. He ruins this of course when he can't help but reach over and remove the strand of hair that has fallen in her face.

When he pulls his hand back, pools of blue peer up at him and while he smiles, hers disappears and a strong look of confusion washes over her as she blinks furiously,

"Hey," he simply says, but before he can add anything to the statement, she's up and pulling the blanket with her and clinging to it so tightly that Mark really doesn't know what's going on in that head of hers.

"Mark," She really doesn't remember much of the night before and the sight of him in her bed and her with no recollection of the night before is doing nothing to make her feel like she's changed at all since Seattle.

"We didn't," Mark immediately states when he can tell she's making sure appropriate clothing is still on her body. "You don't remember anything?"

She stares blankly before dropping back to the bed and looks at him thoroughly embarrassed. "I cried. Again. Sorry."

He reaches out and rubs a thumb across her face. "Don't be," and when he sees that she's still holding onto the blanket despite the fact that she's fully clothed, he quickly gets up and throws his clothes on. "I should go."

She's not comfortable and that's making him uncomfortable and he feels it best to let her simply deal with what happened on her own and should she need him, well, she does have his number.

"No," she quickly says, jumping up, her clutch on the blanket forgotten. "You don't have to and you're kind of my ride to work." She smiles at him and decides that this is as good a time as any and it's never going to get easier to talk if they don't begin now. "I'm sorry…"

"You don't have to be," he cuts in.

"Mark, you have to let me talk." When he smiles, she takes it as a sign to continue. "I'm sorry for so many things and I know you've heard it because I was a weeping, apologizing puddle last night, but I need you to know that I mean it."

"Did you mean it when you told me you loved me?" He simply asks and smirks at the way her head shoots up and her eyes grow wide. "When you were falling asleep, you told me you love me."

"Oh, I…" She really has no idea what to say to him at this point. She's loved Mark for a long time, a love that has evolved over the many years they've known each other but admitting to the type of love she is certain she feels for him at the moment would open her heart up for another round of heartache and she's not sure she's strong enough to survive it this time.

"It's okay, Addie. I don't need to hear it." He immediately changes the subject. "I'm going to use your shower."

Addison knows how long Mark takes to shower, definitely not an excessive amount of time and decides to return the favor from the night before and pulls out the waffle iron she has finally found use for and tosses the box out which has been it's home for over a year.

And while they're eating breakfast, Addison decides she might as well get things out in the open. "I meant it. I do love you, Mark. You've been my shoulder to cry on for years. You suck in your manly ego when I make you watch chick flicks, and cry at the end of Terms of Endearment although I know you hide it. You don't mind that I want to cuddle as close as possible so much so that we almost don't count as two separate entities. That's why I love you. You're simply you when you're around me and you let me be me. Not Doctor Addison Forbes Montgomery or Ms. Montgomery or even Addison. When I'm with you, I get to be Addi."

And really, Mark is convinced that he's imagining things because throughout their long and difficult relationship, he's never once heard her talk about him as if she's _**in**_ love with him. He'd thought, hoped, but ultimately believed that maybe his love was greater than hers. But when he hears the words come out of her mouth, he can actually let himself believe it will work between them, that they can take one last chance and make it this time, so Mark drops his fork and makes his way to her, placing a chaste kiss on her lips before grabbing his jacket and holding the door for her. "You're going to be late."

It's during the car ride to the office that Addison questions Mark on his silence.

"Addi, I love you. You know that. Well, I thought you knew that," his last words dropping to a whisper. "I just didn't know what you wanted me to say after you told me that. I want to be with you. I think I've made that obvious. The ball is in your court, Addison. It always has been."

He says this as he finds a parking spot and steps out. "Tell me what you want me to do. I'll call Richard right now and tell him I'm never coming back if that's what you want."

Before Mark can continue to list off the things he's offering to change for her, he's forcefully pushed against his rental car and Addison's lips are melded to his own.

After a moment, he regains composure and pushes her away. "You don't want this," he says forcefully. You don't want the booty calls and flings. You want a relationship, a commitment. You definitely don't want to be standing in a parking lot and kissing without knowing if it will lead somewhere."

Addison doesn't really know what to say. She doesn't exactly stand by and let someone tell her what _**she **_wants out of life and relationships even when they're exactly right.

"I just," he runs a hand through his hair. "I want this to go somewhere. I want us to try and have a real relationship. Am I the only one?"

"No," she says after a few moments of stunned silence. Mark was never the long speeches, falling in love, relationship guy. That was Derek. This is Mark, the anti-Derek, the man who is known amongst nurses and X-Ray Technicians throughout Seattle and New York, the bachelor, so why does she all of sudden picture a future that involves a house, a family with this known manwhore? "I want a relationship. I want to give you, us a try."

"Alright then," with a flash of the McSteamy grin, Mark grabs her bag and walks her to the office. With a swift kiss to her lips outside of the elevator, which doesn't go unnoticed by anyone at Oceanside Wellness, he hands over her bag and takes his leave.

---------------------------------------

"I don't have a patient for another two hours and I'm just sitting here and I'd much rather be sitting somewhere with company."

"Well, don't I feel loved."

"Okay, fine, I don't want just anyone's company. I could be eating lunch with the rest of the staff. I want you."

"I'll be there in five minutes."

--------------------------------------

They're making their way to the elevator when it opens and a staggering Pete walks out and mumbles something about talking to Violet when he notices Addison and stops in front of the laughing twosome.

"Pete, are you okay?" Addison shows concern for the man who's clothes are soaked from rain and can't seem to stand straight.

When he loses his balance and trips, she rushes forward and grabs his arm to keep him steady and what she receives as gratitude are lips that reek of alcohol now forcing their way to hers. She lets go of his arm and pulls away before they can touch her own and watches as Pete falls to the ground and begins to pick himself up. "What was that?" You enjoyed the last time I kissed you." And then Mark is walking past her to the elevator and Violet is running to Pete's side to pull him to her office.

"Mark," Addison stops him before the elevator has a chance to close and tries to explain. "It was when I first came here and I was sad and lonely and he kissed me."

"So you came back for him?"

"No. I came back because everything was wrong in Seattle. I don't want Pete." Addison tries to explain. "want you," she whispers.

"Are you sure?"

"I do not want to start anything with a quack of a doctor that can't even hold his alcohol. I mean, I'm not even that much of a lightweight."

When both of them laugh, the issue is resolved, which is a first for them, trust.

"Still want lunch?" Mark asks and escorts her out the door.

"With you, yes."


	8. Mess of a Dreamer

-1Chapter 8

Two weeks passed by before either realized it and if Addison's being honest with herself, she hasn't been this happy in years. She's made Mark sit through "Because I Said So" and in return she's been forced to become Mark's baseball buddy and listen to his rants when Jeeter misses what he considers the simplest of catches. She finds it funny that in the past two weeks she's learned more about Mark than she did from months of living with him in New York and finds it adorable that he insists on pacing around the room and refusing to look at a crucial moment in a game. She's noticing small things that she never took the time to notice before, too busy with thoughts of affairs and absent husbands.

Mark has found that the past two weeks have been easy and fun, completely lacking in arguments and tears. For some reason, he knows this time will be different. It hasn't been long but the fact that she seems so completely at ease speaks volumes to him. They still haven't had sex and usually this would be about the time he starts getting the urge to scratch the itch in some way that includes lots of drinks and pointing out an easy and willing target, but he's satisfied, more than he ever thought possible with just lying in bed and holding her in his arms, her bright locks covering his line of sight and limbs tangled purposely with his.

---------------------------------------------

He's sitting in the waiting room because while he started working at St. Ambrose the day before, Charlotte King has informed him that he has no use at her hospital full time and that he'll get a call if needed, which leaves him to do nothing but wait for Naomi to finish up with a patient so he has a chance to talk with her while he's sure Addison's in her office, telling her best friend everything that's happened since she last talked to Callie.

------------------------------------------------

"I'm actually happy," Addison finds herself saying into the phone. "It feels different." And though Addison is sure Callie is happy for her, she finds herself not believing the woman when she expressing how glad she is that things are working out. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong. I'm tired and being the incubator to another living being will do that to a person."

She hears her friend laugh and tries to laugh with her and not think about the fact that she'll most likely never experience that tired, incubator-like feeling and continues to push the issue. "It's more than that, Cal."

"I think George is cheating on me. I see him with Izzie constantly and I know they're best friends and everything but best friends rarely give each other that look and maybe I am being paranoid and hormones are starting to take over, but he's acting strange. Tell me I'm crazy."

"You are crazy," Addison quickly replies. "But always follow your instinct. And if it's telling you that something is wrong, trust it until you can disprove it." When she only hears a sigh, she finds that she should comfort her friend despite the feeling in her stomach that tells her she'll be lying. "I'm sure it's just your crazy pregnant hormones but you still want to be sure.

----------------------------------------

"Come on, Nae," Mark pleads.

"No, Mark, you know the files are confidential. Talk to Addison."

"I can't bring it up with her. She thinks there is no possible chance. I just need to know if it's true. Maybe the tests were wrong. She wasn't exactly in a stress-free state of mind."

"Talk to Addison."

He's becoming increasingly frustrated. "What will it hurt? I want to help her. You didn't see how devastated she was, how she believes it's her fault. Just let me see the damn file, Naomi," Mark's voice rises before he sinks into a nearby chair and pleads, defeated. "She wants it so bad."

"What happened to the arrogant 'God's gift to women' I used to know?" Naomi asks, smiling as she sits beside him, pulling her chair close. "So the redhead tamed you?"

Mark laughs and silently concedes because even though he isn't willing to admit it, he is in fact wrapped around Addison's finger.

"I love her, Nae, and she broke down and told me she was getting what she deserved by not being able to get pregnant."

"Why would she think that?" she asks confused.

"Because of our baby. She thinks God is punishing her and I need you to tell me there is a chance you screwed up because she wants this life and I want to give it to her and you need to tell me that it's possible." Mark watches the expression on Naomi's face and realizes he just gave out information that Addison probably didn't want broadcasted.

"Don't get your hopes up," Naomi finally says after minutes of silence. The tests. They don't give much hope."

"It could have been stress," Mark quickly points out and watches as the woman squirms in her chair.

"Yes, it could have been," she finally tells him. "Stress could have played a factor and there is some fertility potential, but Mark, do not get her hopes up. I do not want to see my friend broken."

--------------------------------------

After both have told each other every aspect of their life and they've had a laugh over an incident in the cafeteria involving Cristina and Izzie and jello being thrown, they say goodbye and exchange more encouraging words.

"Take care of yourself and my godchild," Addison tells her, staying clear of the George conversation.

"I will. Go have sex with Mark." Addison is laughing as she places the phone back and Mark walks in. "Hey."

"How's Callie?" he asks as he crosses the room and places a kiss on her cheek.

"She said the pregnancy is going well." Addison answers.

"That really didn't answer my question." Mark laughs.

"She thinks George is cheating on her," Addison stands up and grabs her purse. "I know you don't want to stay here all day and my only patient canceled, so let's go grab lunch." 

Mark has to catch up with her because she's rushing out of the room and he knows she's afraid for her friend.

----------------------------------------

"I called Richard," Mark tells Addison as they wait for their food. "He said our jobs are available should we ever return but I'm now officially living in Los Angeles."

They smile at each other and a comforting silence drifts over them as their food arrives and they simply eat, glancing at the other every few moments, eyes lingering on each other.

When Addison relays the disagreement in the cafeteria that ended in green jello being slammed into Isobel Stevens' face by a laughing Cristina, Mark almost chokes on his food.

"And now I'm regretting my decision to move here," he laughs. "There's a definite lack of jello fights in L.A. Unless…" His eyebrow shoots up and is met with a glare from Addison. "Fine, no jello fights."


	9. Invitation to Evesdrop

-1Chapter 9-Invitation to Eavesdrop

She walks in the condo, having just delivered a healthy baby boy, and sees no sign of Mark inside until she walks into the bedroom and hears the water running, so she plops onto the couch and kicks off too high heels that she'll never be willing to give up despite the fact that after five minutes, the pain always sets in.

Papers are scattered on the coffee table around his laptop and usually she wouldn't care because there's a file which signifies work-related, but the page open on the laptop is about fertility options and Mark's specialty is the furthest away from helping people conceive, so she reaches over and picks up the file and finds it marked 'Montgomery, Addison' and immediately drops it, the surge of pain too much, the feel of test results that mock all that she wants almost burning her skin and before she realizes it, her eyes are brimming with tears.

She doesn't allow them to fall as she pulls out her cell phone and insists that Naomi tell her what the hell Mark is doing with her file and after getting an insufficient answer that consists of 'I'm sorry' and 'Talk to him' she hangs up on her friend and tosses the phone on the couch.

She hears him moving around and so she walks to the bedroom and sits on the bed in wait, immediately angry with him for thinking he had any business talking to Naomi about her behind her back.

He's smiling when he opens the door and sees her, dress pants and leather jacket on.

"Hey, you're home," he places a kiss on her lips, short, sweet, a habit. "How was your day"

"Delivered a baby, a healthy boy," she tells him and is still not used to the idea of one patient a day.

He smiles again. "I was thinking we could go out for dinner. I already made reservations." He grows sheepish and waits for her to speak.

After sighing and rubbing her temples, she agrees.

"Are you okay?" He's sure there's something bothering her and that she didn't lose a patient means it probably has something to do with him and he knows that weeks without even a small fight mean they're due for one now.

"I'm fine." she snaps as she slips out of what she's wearing and disappears into the closet to slip into the dark purple dress she bought last week.

"Are you sure? You seem tense." He follows her into the closet and tries to think of what could have possibly set her off.

"I'm fine, Mark," she insists as she picks out heels and pulls them from their labeled box.

Dinner has barely started and though Addison is the Queen of Passive Aggressiva, not evens she can stand the silence that drifts over them.

"Why did you talk to Naomi about me?"

The question is blunt and accusing and Mark almost asks if she's serious, but the look in her eyes is enough of an answer. "I think that it's pretty obvious." Having an attitude probably isn't the best way to go about answering her, but the tone of her voice makes it seem like he's being accused of cheating or something equally devastating to their relationship.

"You had no right," she simply states, fuming. "It's not any of your business."

With that, she's standing and then leaving an exasperated Mark in the restaurant, keeping calm, low-key. She doesn't enjoy making scenes, creating drama. She's had enough of it.

She slams the door after getting into the passenger seat and knows Mark will be out in a few minutes to check on her and since he is the holder of car keys, she has no choice in the matter. Waiting is her only option.

She stares out the window the whole ride home, her eyes watering without so much as a reason. She focuses on anything that isn't Mark, counting the palm trees, rows of houses, number of red cars.

Mark is frustrated and his knuckles turn white from the pressure on the steering wheel. She's refusing to look at him, listen at all to any explanation he has.

"I don't understand why you're so upset," he says as they walk into the house, taking off the leather jacket and tossing it on a nearby table.

"You went behind my back and talked to Naomi, my friend, about me. Of course I'm upset," She's pulling off her heels and then drops in the foyer.

"It was for you," Mark tries to make her understand.

"Why couldn't you just talk to me?"

"The last time you talked about it, you broke down. I didn't want to hurt you.," his voice is soft.

"It still isn't right. Those are my files, Mark. They're my tests that have to do with me. That's it. What was the point?" Her tone isn't as aggressive.

"I just wanted to know," Mark explains. "I know how much you want it and being with you has made me realize how much I want it, to share that experience with you. It seems fair that the father be clued in." He shrugs.

"What did she say?" Addison's voice is small, hopeful.

He doesn't answer. Instead he's in front of her in one swift movement and placing his lips on hers. She responds eagerly and their lips don't move from the other as Mark lifts her and her legs clasp around his waist. He fumbles toward the bedroom, distracted by the roaming lips on his neck that take a detour to his left ear to the spot she's always known he loves and back to join his own in another passionate kiss.

He lowers her onto the bed and her legs refuse to pull away from his body, the closeness it creates feeling too good, natural. They manage to maneuver out of their clothing, buttons popped off, new dress torn, in a scramble to join and feel the completeness that neither have felt in what feels much too long. And when Mark's over her and they're one, Addison decides she can't remember the last time she felt this good and when she opens her eyes and looks into his, a flood of relief and love wash over her as he stares into her own, his blue-grey orbs full of nothing but love.

Rolling onto his side, and pulling her into his arms, hearts beating fast, labored breathing. She fits perfectly to him and her head rests in the crook of his neck.

Pulling a few strands of red from sticking to her forehead, a sensual "I love you" is whispered in her ear as hands run the length of her body.

Looking up at him with a smile that never ceases to take his breath away, she cuddles even closer. "I love you too, Mark."

And within minutes they're both asleep, Mark's arm draped over her waist, her hand holding his, smiles on both the sleeping figures faces.


	10. With the Nerve To Adore You

**With the Nerve To Adore You**

Presenting her with breakfast in bed after being the first awake, something he's certain has only happened once before in their long and complicated history, he watches the grimace that crosses her face when presented with the plate of French toast. In a matter of seconds, blankets are flung off and she's gone in a flash of red hair. Left standing, confused, Mark places the tray on the nightstand and follows the sound of heaving. Pulling the tresses from her face as her pale body writhes over the porcelain bowl, Mark offers soothing words and when he's sure she's finished, he wets a cloth to place over her face.

An hour later, Mark has insisted that she take the day off and called in for her through her adamant protests that she isn't sick and needs to be with a patient. It isn't until she finds herself over the toilet for the third time that she sighs.

"I think I'm sick, Mark." She pouts as she proceeds to brush her teeth again and feels his arms wrap around her and a kiss press against her hair.

He's noticed her rushes to the bathroom become a sort of routine over the next week and has completely given up on handing her anything but crackers and juice in the morning in the hopes that the queasiness would subside and throughout her "I hate the flu" protests, from the bathroom floor, Mark can't help but consider a different possibility.

"Maybe you should talk to Naomi, have her run a few tests," he suggests later that day when her bouts of sickness have all but disappeared and they're laughing over the unrealistic surgeries on the television.

"I'm feeling better. I think I'm almost over it," she assures him. "I don't need to be poked and prodded with a needle."

Mark knows just how bad a patient she is, never wanting to slow down, always happier to be the one administering the tests.

"Yeah, but you haven't shown other symptoms, no coughing, no fever. Food poisoning would be cleared up by now. I just think you should see Naomi."

"It's been a week, Mark. I'm feeling better." She smiles to emphasize this.

"Until I put a plate of spaghetti in front of you," he argues. "I just think you should consider another possibility."

"Stop making it bigger than it is."

Suspicicion sweeps through Mark's thoughts and all he can picture in his mind is a baby with her eyes. "If a woman came to you with what you've been experiencing, what would you suggest they do?" He wants more than anything to be right because if he brings this point up only to find out that she does in fact have the flu, it will cause more damage.

He sees the spark in her eyes as she thinks of his question.

"It's not possible." She whispers before standing up, carrying plates into the kitchen.

He follows her. "It is." he informs her. "Just because she said it was improbable doesn't mean it can't happen."

"No, Mark. She said NO fertility potential. None." She's frantically scrubbing at the plate in her hand. "So, no Mark, it can't happen."

"Come on, Addi. You of all people know that those tests aren't completely reliable. You know that stress effects the results."

"Not that much, Mark." Placing dishes in the dishwasher, she blinks rapidly in an attempt to stop tears.

"But, just think about…"

"No!" She interrupts abruptly. "I don't want to think about it, okay. Just drop it, please."

Hoping leads to disappointment, Addison decides as she leans against the wall, bare legs resting on the cold bathroom floor. If she considers the possibility, that will inevitably lead to hope that she's sure will be crushed by a simple test, and the mocking that her own mind will do when this occurs is just too much to take. She tries to stand, but feels the nausea threaten her okay, so finds sliding back to the sterile floor her only option.

When Mark comes home later in the day with a grocery bag and a smile, Addison knows he's up to something.

"Just for my own peace of mind, please," Mark holds the bag out to her.

"You said you'd drop it," She declares, pushing the test back into arms.

"I have a feeling."

"A feeling doesn't override an inability to bear children, Mark."

She wants so much to give in, to consider the possibility, but everything in her life points to yet another disappointment.

"If I'm wrong, I'll never bring it up again, ever." He pleads and when he fins she hasn't cracked yet, he continues, "and I won't watch a single Yankees game this season."

Her eyebrows raise at this. "That must be some feeling you have."

"I told you. Completely serious. What can it hurt? If I'm wrong, you won't have to suffer through the announcers you hate and the replays you find unnecessary and if I'm right, we'll have something to celebrate."

She grumbles and grabs the bag, and throwing a glare his way, stalks toward the bathroom.

They're sitting with fingers interlocked, staring at a clock that Mark swears is broken because it's been 9:38 for at least ten minutes he feels like. When it's finally time, Addison tells Mark to look and when she sees his face, she's really not sure what's going through his mind.

"I don't know what that means," he finally explains. "Does it have to be a plus sign or are two lines good?"

Her heart skips a beat. "There are two lines."

"Yeah," he answers fumbling to find the box and compare.

"Two lines are good, Mark." She's smiling and grabs his hand to stop his frantic search. She looks to make sure and sees that there are two distinctly clear lines on the test.

When he picks her up and places kisses all over her face, Addison tries to calm down and rationalize because she's only taken one test and false positives are always a possibility.

"Tests can lie," she whispers when he places her back on her feet.

"Well, this one didn't," he simply replies, pushing a strand of hair from her eyes.

"It could be wrong."

-----------------------------

"It wasn't wrong," Naomi states, walking into the room. "You are in fact pregnant, Addi."

"But you said…" Addison starts.

"And I was wrong," she cuts in, "because this test doesn't lie."

A hand squeeze and a kiss to her temple forces all of Addison's resolve to crumple and she finds that the tears won't stop falling and the smile now present on her face refuses to leave.

"We're having a baby," she hears whispered into her ear and then feels his hand graze over her still flat abdomen.

"Yeah," she finds herself saying, as her hand covers his. "we are."


	11. Between the Dreaming and the Coming True

-1A month passes by in a whirlwind of successful deliveries, skin grafts, naps, and hushed baby talk. Addison has enforced the "No telling" policy, which excludes Naomi for obvious reasons and Callie though Mark isn't aware she's broken her own rule. A fight over baby names already broken out, Addison has vetoed Mark II and any other way he finds to recreate such name. The fight is short-lived because, Addison victorious and then comes her "No baby talks" policy until the second trimester on the grounds that they're tempting fate. Mark silently breaks the rule, which can be seen by the Book of 1000 Baby Names that rests on the coffee table, still unopened, but there.

Despite Addison's insistence that planning too soon only sets them up for heartbreak, she finds herself drawn to a baby's boutique on her way to work and mentally has already chosen the nursery's color, furniture, and the multitude of other things she knows they'll need. At night, she finds comfort in the fact that both their hands instinctively rest on her still flat stomach, his larger hands covering hers.

Today is the rare occasion when both Addison and Mark are needed at St. Ambrose with surgeries scheduled at the same time, Addison's scheduled C-section and Mark's facial reconstruction.

"What happened to your policies?" Mark jokes, noticing the bag in the backseat. He grabs the bag and pulls a set of two outfits from it, complete with matching socks, one pink, one blue.

"I don't have a "No buying adorable baby clothes" policy," Addison states, turning to stick her tongue out before focusing on the road.

"I kind of thought that fell under the "Pretend the kid doesn't exist until the second trimester so as not to tempt the baby gods" policy." He laughs and receives a slap to the chest.

"Don't mock me." Putting on her best fake pout, Addison tries her hardest to keep from laughing, which earns a surrender from her passenger.

"Fine, no more mocking, but since you bought these," he holds up the tiny pairs of socks, "I get to buy something for my little man."

"Stop calling our child that. You'll confuse her." Addison smirks.

"Her, huh? Is that your expert opinion?" he asks.

"Yes it is." Addison assures him, parking the car.

"Okay, Mommy, then why did you buy a blue onesie?" Mark raises an eyebrow and smiles, proud of himself as he places the items back in the bag, and steps out of the car.

"Mommy is solely reserved for the miniature version of us, Daddy." They walk towards the hospital, hands finding each other amidst banter and raised eyebrows.

"You didn't answer my question," Mark catches her shift of subject as they walk through hospital doors and before he has to leave for a consult, he pull her close to him. "I don't mind you calling me 'daddy' though.

A wink, McSteamy grin, and kiss later, they've parted ways.

Meeting for lunch, Mark insists on asking how Addison feels for maybe the twelfth time that day, happening all morning, throughout her bouts of nauseas and constantly afterwards.

"I'm fine, Mark. The C-Section went smoothly, no complications, so I was able to take a nap in Charlotte's office after. How was your surgery?"

"Successful. Patient will be good as new. And you took a nap in King's office?"

"She likes me." Addison innocently says.

"You told her. So you can break your own rules but I can't?" Mark asks, laughing.

"Yes, I told her. I needed sleep and she took pity on me because I'm carrying your spawn and gave me her office."

"My spawn?" Both of them laugh over the blonde southern woman's word of choice. "You didn't feel dizzy during surgery did you because standing for long periods of time…"

"I know Mark, I didn't feel dizzy. So what baby book did you buy and hide from me?" She smiles and reaches across the table to take his hand. "I think it's really sweet that you're worried, but I know what I'm doing, Mark. This is my work."

Mark's word die on his lips as he watches her grimace and stand, walking faster than he's ever seen her. He quickly follows her and doesn't think twice before entering the bathroom and pulling her hair back. He rubs circles on her back and notices the tired sigh when she leans back against him.

"You don't have anything else here at the hospital, do you?" Mark asks as she takes the toothbrush and toothpaste from her purse and begins to scrub.

"No," she says between brushing. "I don't have anything else scheduled today. You?"

They leave the hospital when he tells her his next surgery is early the next morning and that he's passed the dirty work beforehand on to an eager to learn, but responsible intern.

"Nice Mark," Addison mocks.

"It's what they're for," he defends, shrugging his shoulders.

----------------------------

"Mark is convinced that we're going to have a boy," Addison tells Naomi that night, sitting on the beach, the calm of the ocean making her feel at ease. "And I really don't care which it is, but now that he's so damn sure of himself, I need this baby to be a girl."

They stare at each other for at least twenty seconds, silent, before both burst into a series of hysterics.

"You two really are made for each other. You're the two most stubborn people I know, turning your pregnancy into a competition.." Naomi continues to laugh.

"So, I hear you're my neighbor. You and Sam are really back together, huh?"

"Yeah, we are. It's just so easy. It feels like nothing has changed, except there's this new happiness. I don't know how to explain it." Naomi babbles.

"Addi!" Both turn towards the beach house and see Mark standing at the door. "Phone."

"Go enjoy the beach with your man," Addison looks towards Sam and the tiny dog that's beside him.

Wiping sand from clothes, Addison makes her way to the house.

"Who is it?" she asks Mark as he offers her the phone.

"Callie," Mark says sitting beside her on the couch.

"Oh," she places the phone to her ear. "Hey, Cal."


	12. Appetite for Destruction

-1"Callie, you have to breathe. I can't understand anything. Are you okay? The baby?" Addison has never heard her friend this way, panicked, out of breath, out of control.

"Are they okay?" Mark quickly asks, hearing Addison's side of the conversation over the book he's skimming through.

"I don't know." She honestly replies then focuses on the hysterical woman once more. "Callie what happened?" She focuses on hearing the words beneath the heaving breaths and only manages to hear a hissed "bastard" on the other end. "What happened? Is it George?"

"I fucking caught them. They were right there."

"Who? Callie, you need to calm down. The baby needs oxygen, sweetie." She's almost gathered enough information to draw her own conclusion, but she needs to be certain.

"George and Izzie Stevens."

Addison hears the pain in her voice. "Oh, Cal. I'm so sorry. Have you talked to him?"

"No. I checked out of the Archfield."

"Then where are you staying?" Addison asks and Mark drops his book on the table, giving up on at least pretending to be out of the one-sided conversation he's hearing.

"Addison, what's going on?" The worried expression on her face is scaring him.

She only holds a hand up to silence him when Callie begins to speak again.

"I just moved my stuff to Yang's until I find somewhere else. Not looking forward to sleeping on her couch though. I don't know if my back can take it."

Addison hears the sharp intake of breath. "Callie?"

"I just...I forgot about the baby. I know that's stupid because I can feel it moving now and I know I'm very pregnant, but I just was so wrapped up in not seeing him today. How am I going to do this, Addi?"

"You're going to be fine. We'll figure this out." At Mark's insistence that he not be left out any longer, Addison tells her friend to hold on. "She caught George with Stevens. She's a wreck."

"Bastard," is all Mark can say, and Addison can tell he's fuming.

"Yeah, that was her word for him too. She doesn't know what to do, with the baby and everything." she explains.

"Well, tell her we'll be there tomorrow."

"What?" Addison's surprised by how quickly he threw the idea out there.

"Your friend needs you. She's scared and alone, and seven months pregnant. And I consider us a package deal now, so we're going. I want to have a talk with O'Malley." He's already calling the airline and making the plans for a 10:30 departure.

She smiles at the man who seems to know her so well. She wasn't sure how he'd respond to her idea of going to help Callie for a while, so she's glad he's the one that brought it up. "Callie, are you still there?" When she hears a whispered "yeah," she continues. "I'm coming to Seattle. Mark is making arrangements now."

"You left here for a reason, Addi. It's a rainy, sucking void. Stay away from it. Be happy."

"Nope, we're going eat Ben & Jerry's, plan revenge, and figure out a name for my godchild. And do you really not want to know the sex, Callie? Because it's killing me not to know. How am I supposed to buy baby things without knowing the gender?" Addison's proud of herself for changing the subject.

"Buy green or yellow, Addi. I want the sex to be a surprise. Deal with it."

"Fine," she grumbles, and hearing her friend laugh, relief sweeps over her. "I'll see you tomorrow. Call me if you need me sooner."

------------------------------

A hectic morning full of Sam rants, bouts of nausea, and an extremely angry Charlotte King, and Addison and Mark are glad to be on the plane, just so there's time to rest.

"You do realize that you're never going to work at St. Ambrose again?" Addison laughs and remembers the colorful words Charlotte used in her conversation with Mark earlier that morning.

He winces. "Yeah, I wouldn't want to work at a place where a woman threatened to de-man me anyways. So I hear Sam was not thrilled with your unplanned leave?"

"Yeah, I got the irresponsible speech, which means Naomi sent him."

---------------------------------

"Well, now I can say I've thrown up on a plane. Is there a club for that?" Addison asks as they try to find their bags in the terminal. "Because there should be and we should petition for bigger bathrooms."

"You do that," Mark tells her, struggling with all of their bags and one he's certain only contains shoes. "But I'm going to greet your friend that's waiting for us."

"Cal," Addison walks faster and pulls the woman into a hug, reaching down afterward to put her hand on the expanded belly.

"Okay, first, no talk of the baby bump and how big I've gotten. You'll be dealing with this soon enough." Callie asserts.

"But it's cute," Addison insists. "I missed you."

"I missed you too. Thanks for coming." Callie smiles.

"Oh, I'm happy to be here. Thanks for asking," Mark states sarcastically, throwing "the grin" their way when they turn to look at the man somehow managing to carry all of Addison's bags. "If we could get a cab, that'd be great. Addi's shoes aren't exactly weightless."

"Well, if you would let me help you," Addison states, frustrated.

"Just lead the way to a cab. I'm not letting pregnant women carry anything."

--------------------------

They've checked into a hotel further away from the hospital, and Mark has moved Callie's essentials to her new room, the Archfield not an option. Avoiding the hospital for as long as they can, Addison insists they go to Joe's and after Mark snorts in laughter at the idea of him and two pregnant women in a bar, they make their way inside but before Addison gets to ask Joe how the twins are doing, she spots George O'Malley and Izzie Stevens sitting at the bar.

"Come on, Cal. Ben & Jerry's awaits us. Coming here was a stupid idea. I'm sorry." Addison links the dark haired woman's arm with her own and senses how stiff Callie is. "Come on. Let's go." She tugs on her arm and eventually, the woman tears her eyes away from the scene unfolding before her, the laughs, the hair touching, and turns, trying to keep her tears at bay.

"Mark," Addison calls out as they stand by the door.

He waves his hand as a sign that they should leave.

"Mark, what are you…?" He cuts her off with yet another gesture, so she escorts her broken friend out of the bar.

It happens in an instant, so fast that half of the bar doesn't even see, and those that do aren't even really aware of what happens until they see the blood pouring from George O'Malley's nose and the pained expression on Mark Sloan's face as he holds his hand.

He leaves them there, Stevens carefully examining the nose that Mark is certain he broke, and walks outside, joining the women at Callie's car.

"Mark, what did you do?" Addison asks, before pulling his hand into her own and inspecting the knuckles that are now bleeding. "You hit him."

"He had it coming," Mark simply states and concentrates on not wincing as Addison looks over his hand to make sure it isn't broken. "You deserve better," he looks towards Callie. "I knew he wasn't man enough for you."

The drive to the hotel is mostly filled with silence.

She knows she shouldn't be happy that her best friend's whatever he is just beat the hell out of your cheating soon to be ex-husband, but all she feels is some sense of justice. "Thanks, Mark."

"I mean it," he smiles at her before wrapping an arm around Addison. "So are you girls going to kick me out of the room for girls night? Because I really have nowhere to go."

"Then we'll go to Callie's room, unless you want to spend the night watching endless chick flicks and painting toe nails."

"Well as much fun as that sounds, beer and a game sound better. So I'll see you in the morning." A kiss later, they go to their respective rooms where Mark feels more alone than he has in years and attempts to sleep, but finds it impossible with her not in his arms.


	13. Don't Need A Reason

Chapter 13-Don't Need A Reason

They've had three days to themselves, aside from the times when Callie wasn't working, and they've both basked in the idea that for a whole day, they could simply do nothing, an unheard of idea considering their massively hectic lives. The third morning is filled with grilled cheese for Addison-promptly gone from her system when she smells the scrambled eggs arriving and is sent running to the hotel bathroom-and an apologetic Mark that declares he's giving up all forms of egg. The word only makes her think of the smell and another bout of nausea hits her. While she brushes her teeth and attempts to throw her hair back into a messy ponytail that is now very much her style and Mark's certain will be until a baby with red hair and a stubborn streak joins them, he ushers the breakfast cart into the hallway and tries to rid the room of any remnants of the breakfast smell.

An hour later, when they've both decided it's a lazy day that must consist of snuggling- sex being ruled out because Addison's vote now counts double-and a marathon of medical dramas, a pregnant woman stumbling through a glass door, stable for the moment, pulls them from the comfortable, warm bed. It's a struggle for both of them to leave, taking turns whining about having to leave the room and go outside where they know for a fact that rain is falling heavily and will be for the next twelve hours. Somehow they manage to motivate the other-gentle pleading, swats to the shoulder, butt, whatever exerts less effort, and when all else fails a resounding "Move your ass!"-and thirty minutes later a grumbling wet Addison and a pouting equally wet Mark step into the hospital that though they aren't willing to admit will always feel welcoming. Well, it would if the eyes of an ex-husband and ex-best friend weren't boring holes into both of them at the moment.

"I can't believe it," is all they hear when he walks closer. "You actually took him back?" The disgusted look on his face says it all and Addison really doesn't know how to respond with anything that isn't an elementary school comeback, and really she's not in the mood to fuel any hospital gossip, so she stands silently, squeezing tighter on the hand that's clasped with her own.

"We're walking away," Mark simply states, transferring his gaze from the dark haired man back to the worried eyes of the redhead.

Before they can take the hallway to the elevator, a huffy "Oh my God," forces them to turn towards him again. "So that's why you let him stay?"

Addison follows his look and outstretched arm to her abdomen where she didn't even realize her own arm was curling protectively around her body. It was still almost impossible to tell that she was pregnant, save for the increase in cup size and the bump that was almost nonexistent. And the fact that Derek is able to notice makes her sad in a completely new way, the fact that he now notices the subtleties when she's certain that she could have been a good seven months pregnant last year and she's certain he'd completely disregard it.

"Derek, just don't." Her eyes plead with him, aware of the nurses who's eyes peer up from the charts they're pretending to look over, watching the tense threesome and the fight it's sure to spark.

"I don't get it. You know for a fact that one of you is just going to screw up and screw whoever you happen to be in the room with when anything gets too hard. You think a baby is going to change that?" Derek's voice is icy and a strictly bewildered look now graces his face.

"It won't happen," Mark says it with such confidence that any doubt Derek seems intent on shoving down her throat is immediately gone.

"Right, because you both are the epitome of fidelity."

"You're one to talk," Mark snorts. "Panties in the coat pocket, that was a nice touch, Derek."

And with that, they leave him there, after all there are more important things to worry about than the ego of Derek Shepherd, who simply stands unmoving, not daring to call to them and say what his mind wants to, that though he may mock Mark, criticize him any time he feels the need, he's still his best friend, and in fact, Derek Shepherd could really use a best friend right now.

"I thought we were over the resentment and hurting each other phase," Addison says when they're both standing in the elevator. "Before I left, Derek seemed even happy. What happened?"

"They broke up."

Addison and Mark both turn towards the young brunette. "Who?" Addison immediately asks.

"McDreamy and Grey. They called it quits a few weeks ago, something about commitment issues."

"So that's why he had his _angry!pants _on today," Mark smirks and Addison can't help but laugh, stepping out of the elevator, both making their way to Richard's office, fully aware of the verbal beat down they're both going to receive, followed by the "Please stay" speech.

A long hug followed by a "There's something different about you" is all it takes for Addison to completely drop the "No telling" possibility and gush about the miracle she's waited for to the man she considers her father.

They check on their patient to assess what needs to done after both are smothered with 'congratulations' and Mark has had the fear of "You hurt her again and I'll kill you" put into him. The hand gestures and chest pointing Richard throws in means he is completely serious despite Addison's giggles and the playful look in his eyes.

Having Richard give them both free reign over interns, George is taken under Mark's wing, who forces the younger man, face now sporting a huge black and blue bruise, to do every bit of grunge work in the hospital. Though Mark has always been one to abuse his power, even Alex is shocked at the end of the day by the tired intern when he walks into Grey's house and crashes in the living room, not even making it to the den.

"I don't think I've ever seen you make an intern work _that_ much," Addison laughs as she takes another bite of pasta. While normally, she knows not to encourage his misuse of interns, she can't help but be glad that he finds it fun to torture the man that broke her best friend's heart.

Mark only shrugs. "He did fail his exams. I'm just helping him out." He winks and throws a smirk her way. "So, where's Callie tonight?"

"Long day. She has tomorrow off, so she told me she was going to hibernate."

"Sounds like a plan."

"Yeah, all of the stress of long days and seeing George and Izzie is doing nothing to help her body." Addison, feeling the beginnings of nausea pushes her plate away.

----------------------------------------

A week later, and a surgery together, Mark and Addison arrive at the hospital at nine to prep their patient, Mark of course requesting O'Malley with a grin on his face.

After a smooth surgery, and a healthy newborn girl and scar-free Mommy resting comfortably, Mark decides a little on-call room therapy will do both Addison and him well, so he takes off down the hallway to find her.

-----------------------------------

It shouldn't be this hard to maneuver, Addison decides as she pulls the machine closer to her body slumped over the examining table. Shirt raised, she rubs the cold gel on her stomach, and mumbles that a new, warmer form should be invented as she grabs the transducer and attempts to find the heartbeat. She realizes that this is a lot easier when not performing it on yourself when she finds that her neck and elbow have begun to ache with the stress of trying to see the monitor.

"What the hell are you doing?" the look on his face in genuinely confused as Addison looks up from trying to find a comfortable position.

"What the hell does it look like I'm doing?" She retorts, before pulling herself up and pushing the machine away.

She walks across the room to grab a paper towel, but is stopped when Mark's hand gently grabs an arm and pulls her back to the table.

"I'm not the Queen of Pink and Squishy, but I think I can manage a simple ultrasound," Mark smirks as he grabs the transducer and pulls the monitor closer. "You're not planning on delivering the kid yourself too, are you?"

She throws a genuine "You really need to shut up right now or I'm going to forget why I love you" glare his way as she tries to guide his hand. "I've decided to spend my energy in the delivery room gripping your hand as hard as humanly possible and hating you for inflicting pain on me, so even though I am _that_ good, I'll leave the delivering job to someone else." She points at the screen. "More to the left, Mark.

"I know what I'm doing, Addison. Just relax. There."

Their ears are filled with the rhythmic beating that Addison's heard thousands of times, but never really _listened_ to and immediately both are rendered speechless as they watch the vision in black and white. The small form is visible though Mark's expression means he's trying and failing to pinpoint the position of the tiny unborn infant.

"That's the head," Addison places a finger to the screen.

"That's our kid." His smile is infectious and she can't help but become overwhelmed with one of her own.

"Yeah, it is." And before she knows what's happening, he's locking the door and shutting blinds, his body moving over her and his hands roaming everywhere.

"We're having a baby," he whispers between trailing kisses down her neck.

"We've already established that, Hon," Addison smiles at how cute he is, looking up at her, eyes full of happiness. It's a side she's always wanted to see of him, and she is definitely not disappointed. "Mark, we can't," she quickly says when his hands fumble to pull her shirt overhead. "Not in here."

"Why not? I don't see anyone else in here, do you?" And then, with his hands working her scrub pants off, she can't find the words to respond, so instead puts her own hands to work on his scrubs, lips finding home on his clavicle.

Slipping into her, their lips lock in an attempt to stifle all noise. For Mark Sloan this wouldn't be an unusual occurrence, but Addison Forbes Montgomery could live without the world knowing she was enjoying herself quite a bit on hospital grounds. She prides herself on being professional, but when Mark twists just so in the way he knows will send her over, she forgets all about Professional Doctor Montgomery and allows the sounds to slip from her parted lips, Mark's own now focusing their attention on her chest.

"I love you," he whispers as he's overcome by the passion and she isn't sure if it's his words or release that spark her own, but one or the other does and after whispering it back to him, they lay on the bed much too small for two people with limbs dangling over each other and the edge of the small table, trying to regain their normal breathing.

"I can't believe you just had sex with me in an exam room," Mark laughs against her neck, to which he receives a slap in return.

"And that was the one and only time, Mark Sloan." Addison sternly declares before reaching up to throw scrubs on and tidy up the hair she knows will betray her when she leaves the room, but before she has a chance, he pulls her against him and finds the spot behind her ear he knows drives her insane and when she whimpers, he pulls himself away.

"There's definitely going to be a second time," He says, voice cocky as he pulls his shirt on. The glare she gives him only makes him that much more smug. "Oh, like you didn't enjoy it?"

"That is so beside the point," Addison declares when they walk out of the exam room. She glances to make sure no one is paying attention, but catches the raised eyebrows of a lab technician and nurse walking by. "Come on, Mark," She's all but pulling him down the corridor. "We have to check on the patient and then head back to the hotel," She pauses once more to glance around the building, and leans closer to him. "For seconds."

"Ah, second trimester is hitting hard I see." He winks at her as they wait for the elevator. "Lucky for you that I'm here." He notes, throwing his strong arms around her and pulling her into the elevator.

She scowls at him and his over inflated ego before softening. "Yeah, I am."


	14. Myself When I'm Real

Chapter 14-Myself When I'm Real

"I have to get away from here," Callie reaches the nurses station and tosses a chart on the counter before focusing on Addison. "Because I am going to kill them. I am going to break her perfect skinny little body," The bone-crushing motions are stopping hospital personnel in their tracts and force Addison to grab her arms and still her inventive flailing hand gestures.

"Okay, remember what I told you about stress. And stop with the teeth grinding. The noise is making me want to kill _you._"

"They're everywhere, all the time. I'm getting bigger by the day because of him and he's off kissing in the cafeteria. That is not something I need to see when I'm trying to nurture _his_ child. Save me from the madness."

"How does the beach, warm weather, sun, and most importantly no Izzie and George sound?"

"How soon can we get out of here?" Callie's eyes sparkle. "Because today is sounding really good at this point."

"Well, how does Saturday sound because I have to cover for Lockheart." Addison sighs.

"Since when?"

"Since Richard all but had a breakdown and begged me." Grapping a chart and the chamomile tea Mark insisted on giving her, Addison turns on the black heels she still refuses to give up. "Wish me luck."

A scan over the chart of a seven year old, the recipient of a new kidney due to juvenile nephronophthisis and a look through the window at the smiling blonde, make Addison's stomach lurch and after a silent prayer, she forces a smile and opens the door.

There was a reason Addison didn't stick to pediatrics. Adults, their fearful questions, angry responses, became easy to handle. Newborns, unaware of the sickness that plagued them made her job easier, but to look into a sick child's eyes and have to break bad news. That, she couldn't do.

"Where's Dr. Sarah?" Confused blue eyes remove themselves from cartoons and peer into Addison's.

"Well, she has to be at home right now, but I'm going to check you out." She takes a spot on the edge of bed. "I'm Doctor Montgomery. You can call me Addison though."

"Okay. I'm Haley Marie James." And in good manners, the small girl offers her hand with a wide smile. "Do you have any kids?"

"That is a beautiful name, Haley. And I don't have any kids yet, but I'm going to have a baby." Addison didn't realize how happy it would make her to say that to a complete stranger, but the idea of impending motherhood, aside from the nausea(though there's been a definite decrease in in the "episodes" as Mark calls him) is making her happier than she's ever been.

"Is it a girl or a boy?" The blonde asks as Addison motions for her to scoot down on the bed.

"I don't know yet, but I think it might be a girl." Addison presses her fingers onto the child's abdomen and presses in various places. "Let me know if it hurts, okay."

"Stand back." Haley announces, tipping her head to the side and focusing intently on Addison's stomach.

"Does it hurt?" Worry creeps into Addison's mind as she drops her hands.

Vigorously shaking her head, Haley explains. "Nope, it doesn't hurt, but I think it's a boy baby. It looks like a boy baby."

Addison can't help but laugh at the serious tone of the seven year old. "Let me check you over and then you can give me baby name suggestions. Deal?"

As an answer, the small hand is extended yet again. "Deal."

A lack of fever, pain, tenderness, and a normal blood creatinine level mean good news for the six month follow-up as the kidney seems to be functioning with no sign of rejection.

"Is the kidney good?" Haley asks, watching Addison jot down levels on her chart.

"There are no problems, but," she starts and is interrupted by the quick-witted child.

"I know. Biopsy." Haley declares, following it with a dramatic rolling of the eyes.

"Yeah," Addison throws her a sympathetic look. "I know, but we have to make sure you stay healthy. And I have a few papers that need to be signed, so where are your parents, sweetie?"

"My mommy works here. Erica James."

"I'm going to go find her okay. I'll be back soon."

"Okay, and I choose Matthew because it's definitely a boy baby." Haley nods her head, bright locks falling over her face and notices the perplexed expression on the redheaded doctor's face. "You said I could choose baby names."

"No girl names?" Addison asks, smiling as she walks to door.

"You don't need a girl name for a boy. That's silly." The matter-of-fact tone in her voice could make her easily sound double her age.

"Of course. I don't know what I was thinking. Be good, Haley. I'll be back soon. A nurse will come help you get ready."

After a pouty "okay," Addison sets off in search of her patient's mother, which after thirty minutes proves to be harder than she first thought. Feet too sore to continue her search, Addison resorts to using the loud speaker, something she's always hated but feels necessary if she isn't going to take the nap she desperately wants.

A woman she vaguely remembers from her hours at Seattle Grace makes her way to the station.

"You took over Dr. Burke's position, right?" Addison's trying to place the face she remembers to the gossip she's heard of a Dr. Hahn from Callie.

"Yes, that's right." And it's clear she doesn't recognize her. "Montgomery" she whispers to herself. "I heard you moved."

"I did. I'm back for, well, personal reasons. Addison." She extends a hand and smiles. "It's unfortunate we never had the chance to work together. I've heard you do wonders with a heart, Dr. Hahn."

"Likewise." A gentle handshake and the blonde pushes a strand of hair back.

"Do you know an Erica James? I've been searching for an hour. And I'm never going to hear the end of it when I complain about these hurting." Addison motions to the peep-toes she's sporting.

"Why are you looking? You work in neonatal." Hahn's eyebrows are contorted with skepticism.

"I'm covering for Sarah Lockheart. And how do you…?" Hahn's face speaks volumes. "You?"

"How is she?" Her expression softens in an instant, blue eyes pleading.

"Showing no signs of rejection. We'll need a biopsy to completely rule it out, but she's good and adorable I might add. I didn't know you had a daughter."

"It isn't something I broadcast." Hahn immediately states.

Addison furrows an eyebrow at the hostile tone the woman takes on. "I don't understand."

"I've worked hard to create a reputation for myself, and I know from experience that mentioning I am a mother does not bode well for my career. I love her and I love my work. I don't believe I should have to choose between the two, but it's been made clear to me before that the two don't go well together. So if you could just keep this to yourself, I'd appreciate it."

"Okay," a slightly bewildered Addison responds. "I'll page you when I have the results of the biopsy."

"Thanks, Montgomery," Erica Hahn smiles slightly before turning to leave.

It scares her to hear another woman talking about choosing between family and work. She's already heard of the marriage problems Miranda has had, and has been dealing with Callie's crumbling marriage and while she and Mark may not be married, she can't help but think adding a child to their already complicated and confusing lives might be too much for them, their real relationship still all too new.

"Dr. Montgomery," the receptionist brings her back to reality, a phone to her ear. "Do you know where Sloan is? I have Bellevue on the line. They say it's urgent."

"I'll get him." Her feet lead her to the on-call room where she knows he's trying to catch up on some sleep before a routine surgery and all she can think about are the many reasons the hospital in New York would be contacting him. An insane notion of Mark deciding to ditch her pops into her mind, and by the time she sees his lump under the white sheet on the bed, she's fuming at the thought of him leaving the family she thought he wanted.

"What's in New York, Mark?" She quickly asks, flipping the light switch on.

The startled man grabs the sheet to shield his eyes as he tries to adjust and wake up at the same time.

"What the hell, Addison? What are you talking about?" he asks when he's finally awake and coherent, sitting up.

"Are you getting your old job back?" Anger has shifted to fear and she finds tears are prickling her eyes, just waiting for him to admit this isn't what he wants.

"Again, I have to ask, what are you talking about?"

"Go to the nurses station. Bellevue's on the line. I'm sure Reynolds is offering you head of plastics there, so just go." Addison fights the tears that are becoming too much to hold in. "I thought you wanted us."

"Okay, your hormones are making you insane so I'm going to let this slip," Mark stands up and walks towards the crying redhead and tilts her head up to look into his eyes. "I am not leaving you. I am not leaving Mark Junior. Ever. You're stuck with me. I haven't even talked to anyone in New York since I left, okay?" When she nods he places a kiss on her forehead. "So this hormone girl!flip-out thing is over?"

Addison thinks about it for a minute before running a hand over her face and throws him a small smile. "I'm sorry I doubted you."

"Yeah, I am too. So don't do it again. Okay?" He grins and runs a hand over the tiny bump. "Guess I better see what the call is about. I'll even let you listen in, so you can save yourself the worry." He doesn't allow her a response as he loops his fingers through hers and pulls her gently along with him.

"Mark Sloan," he answers and offers an apology for the wait.

Addison doesn't hear what the man's voice on the other line is saying, but she sees the tense expression on Mark's face and feels his hand grip hers tighter.

A long drawn out "Okay" ends the phone call and he hands the phone back to the young woman behind the desk.

"Mark, what's wrong?"

He doesn't answer, only pushes a hand through his hair and sighs.

"Mark?"

"Will you come with me?" His voice is different, scared and she's never seen him like this, so without waiting for the words it seems he'll never say, she nods in response and gives his hand a gentle squeeze.

"Is it your mom?" It's the only plausible scenario she can think of. Mark has no family except for her. His father left when he was two, and his mother went through at least four husbands after, but never had more children.

"No," she gently says. "There was a girl. He's two, Addi, and I just, tell me what we should do." His eyes plead with her, his mind fumbling to explain.

"You have to tell me what you're talking about first Mark."


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

They walk through the hospital doors, hands clasped tightly together. Addison throws Mark a sympathetic look when they get up to the nurses station and reassures him, though she's definitely not feeling too confident herself, unsure of how they'll handle this situation. They took the first flight out, haphazardly throwing essentials into suitcases, and letting Richard know of their early departure.

They're informed by a receptionist that someone is waiting for them in the pit, so they make their way down the familiar hallway that sparked so many memories in their younger years.

She can tell that Mark has no idea how to handle himself in the moment, and she can almost hear his heart beating out of his chest, his palm sweaty in her hand.

"It will be okay," she whispers again, even more unsure of herself than before, but at least she's able to conceal the fear she has. Letting him see that she doesn't know what the hell they are going to do would definitely not help his nerves, and she's already decided to wave the irresponsible, 'I can't believe you were that careless' speech because she knows how much he's already beaten himself up for it. They didn't talk on the plane, save for comforting words and a few simple questions because while Addison knows that it's incredibly selfish, her mind is screaming that this will ruin all that they have built and the plans she has written out in list form in her head now need to be scribbled out and reworked because this so does not fit into those plans.

"Well, how the hell am I supposed to know?" Mark suddenly states as they stand and survey the overly crowded beds.

Addison gently presses on his shoulder instead of answering him, and glances once more around, trying to take in each figure. It's scattered with crying children and frantic adults, and she's sure Mark forgot to ask what caused this accident, so she's taking guesses and all she can come up with is some sort of highway catastrophe. The Chief is nowhere to be seen which she finds odd given the current situation, but her thoughts cease altogether when she notices the small figure in the corner.

"Mark," she says softly, finding her voice trembling. "I found him." And then she points to the whimpering toddler.

"How do you know?" He asks and tries to see what she does.

"I just, I do," she states and pulls him along, but he doesn't seem too pleased with the simplicity of her answer. "The picture of you and Derek on the mantle at Mom's where you're both four. He," she points to the small child, head full of curly dirty blonde hair, "looks just like you did."

His cheeks are red and water stained when they reach him, and small hands are clenched as arms reach upward through he refuses the care of the young intern in charge of him.

Addison relieves the brunette from her task and takes her place in front of the squirming child. She puts all thoughts of how different this is going to make their life, all selfish thoughts that seem to be running through her mind aside and focuses on the frightened boy. She knows he's confused by the lack of a certain Mommy figure and a chaotic room full of people he doesn't know, so she glances back at Mark who seems bewildered with what to do, and reaches her hand out to stroke the light damp curls on his head.

And his head tilts up at her touch and then she's staring into watery stark eyes that are distinctly belonging to the Sloan line.

Her mind scrambles to recall the name Mark whispered on the plane as she lifts the railing on the bed down and situates herself beside the still crying toddler.

"Owen," she finally remembers, and attempts to soothe his heaving chest and cease the fit of coughs he's causing himself. "Hey." He peers up at her, hiccupping, and she keeps her voice soft and gently pulls his small body onto her lap.

"Why won't he stop?" Mark frantically asks twenty minutes later when the small boy has been shifted into his arms.

"He's scared to death. His mother is," she can't force herself to say the word in front of the child despite how she knows he won't understand. "He doesn't know us."

"But isn't there a limit to his screaming?" he asks, exasperated and hands the red, scrunched up toddler back into the redheads arms.

"It doesn't seem so," Andrew Reynolds states as he makes his way to them and claps Mark on the back. "I'm sorry. I wish I could be seeing you two under different circumstances, but there are decisions that need to be made and social work is on their way down."

"How did it happen?" Mark quietly asks as he desperately tries to remember the woman the small child is mourning.

"Five car pile-up," He solemnly tells them as he glances at the myriad of injured people being examined. "I'm going to need a decision, Mark. They won't wait much longer. I'll give you two a minute."

"What should we do, Addi?"

He isn't ready, isn't prepared to take on this role yet. He was going to have months of preparations. He was supposed to have time to read the books, to learn how to even care for another life. This isn't what he envisioned and he just stares at the boy that has cried himself to sleep.

"He's your son," Addison explains and to her that's the only answer they need. It's simple. She places the sleeping boy into Mark's arms, and when she watches him adjust to hold the limp toddler, she knows this is what's right.

It will take time they've been told. Papers need to be read over, signed, and verified, and the process of making Owen a Sloan will take at least a few months despite Mark being already listed on the small boy's birth certificate. DNA tests need to be done to make sure and at Mark's insistence-he's not sure he could even muster up the strength to do this without her-they tackle the added process of making her his mother on paper.

It's a whirlwind and neither really knows how they should feel about the child that never seems to stop crying. They've had him for a week and when Addison isn't trying to rock the child to sleep-to no avail because he only seems to cry harder at the motion-and Mark isn't pacing the length of the Brownstone-little time made the furnished house their only option-tracing circles on his back, Owen simply sits wherever they placed him and chokes out more tears than either ever thought possible for a person so small, until his body tired from the force, falls asleep.

Whenever this happens, Mark scoops the child up, so careful that it's clear he's never been around children, and places him in the crib they quickly set up in the guest room. Addison's already fallen asleep on the guest bed by this point, the stress of a constant crying toddler and the life growing inside her making her body more exhausted than her whole internship ever did.

"I'm sorry," Mark whispers into her neck when he lays beside her and wraps his arms around her. When her eyes flutter open, he finds that he can only repeat himself.

She doesn't know what to say back to him, and she's not sure if it's because of how tired she is or if she does in fact blame him and the toddler wrapped in the Yankees blanket only a few feet away. "It's okay," she manages to say before closing her eyes again. She can't have an actual conversation now, not when her mind isn't even thinking coherent thoughts aside from telling her to sleep before the crying starts again and makes it impossible.

She hates that by the time she finally falls asleep, the shrill sound of Owen banging on the railing of the crib and the screams that accompany it, force her open bloodshot eyes. She hates that Mark thinks she's the one that's better with the upset boy when she can't even make the child sit still long enough to get him dressed or eat lunch. She hates that she finds herself wishing to go back, to the day before the phone-call where her mind tells her she could have simply hung up the phone or lied to Mark about Bellevue. She hates that she resents Mark for bringing this child into their lives. And most of all, she hates herself for even thinking these thoughts because when she peers down once Owen has found fitful sleep and sees him with a thumb in his mouth and curly hair ruffled from slumber, she sees how much of Mark is in the child and that alone is enough for her fall in love with him and push the other thoughts aside.

The calls from Callie are getting to be more annoying than the constant screams from Owen. When a simple, "We'll be back soon, I promise," would appease her last week, Addison sits for at least a twenty minute phone-call to assure the pregnant woman that they will in fact be back in time for the baby. She doesn't buy it though when Addison stammers about the process moving faster than they thought it would and Callie informs Addison that she will put her on the "To be killed" list and move her up to the spot where George and Izzie reside if Alex Karev has to deliver her baby.

"We'll be back. I promise." Addison speaks over Mark swaying the puffy eyed toddler.

"You still have at least a month before you can even think of bringing that crying thing home and I have at the most a month before I'll be pushing this crying thing out. I'm not feeling those odds, Addi." Callie rambles on. "If you would just sign off on me flying."

"No," Addison immediately says. "I'm not risking you going into labor on an airplane."

"Okay, so now you think I'm going to go into labor any day now. Comforting, Addi. Karev cannot deliver this baby." And Addison knows Callie is pointing at her stomach as she speaks. "Just let me fly. I promise to hold the kid in until I get off the plane."

"No. Not happening. You know our luck sucks. My godchild isn't going to be born on a plane." Addison continues to tell her and when she can't even hear herself think anymore she turns to Mark. "Please take him into the kitchen. Just for a few minutes." She watches him walk away and hears the cries grow quieter and sighs. "I'll go with you." she finally says.

"What?"

"I'll get a flight tonight. And fly back with you. If my godchild is going to be born on a plane, I am definitely going to be the one doing the OB thing."

Ten _thank you's _later, Addison ends the phone-call and attempts to find a flight for Seattle.

Now comes the hard part, letting Mark know he's on his own for a little while.


End file.
